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by thisprentiss



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Nonbinary Character, friends im super emotional about psylocke right now, just let her and caliban be friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7213660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisprentiss/pseuds/thisprentiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psylocke comes back to the sewers after the defeat of Apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> sue me.... i love psylocke and she got 0% enough screentime in apocalypse. also i just want her and caliban to be friends sue me  
> all my knowledge of german comes from google translate

Based on how Cairo had looked when she left, Betsy was shocked to see how minimally the rest of the world had been effected.

Of course there was large damage in certain areas; many buildings had been collapsed, some bridges destroyed, and there was a news story about large storage containers flying up in the air, but all things considered, all the damage had been centered around where En Sabah Nur had battled it out with the X Men.

It was a long trek from Cairo to East Berlin without En Sabah Nur's ability to teleport, Betsy learned that very quickly, but the lack of a physical mutation and a quick change into casual clothes allowed for her to easily hitch rides under the guise of being a distressed homosapien. She had several close calls with some men in taxis, pulling off into abandoned alleyways or the wreckage of a demolished building to try and feel her up, and every time she had to stop herself from using her mutation to slit their throats, instead opting to give them a solid human punch in the nose.

And she couldn't get home immediately, either. Betsy watched the world being rebuilt as she travelled from city to city, getting lost in Russia somehow during that time. Bridges were being remade, buildings brought back up from the ground; she was shocked to see one of her former fellow horsemen, Erik Lensherr, assisting in the rebuilding of several cities. She never knew he had that kind of compassion in him.

So she lived off a diet of coffee and tubs of ice cream from various gas stations, travelling from cheap motel to the next cheap motel. By the time her scuffed up boots touched down on the rainy street of her hometown, it had been almost a year and a half. Her hair was tied up, a sweatshirt keeping the chill of East Berlin away from her skin, and she had donned a shocking pair of jeans. She'd never worn jeans before she became a horseman.

It was... _strange_ to say the least, dodging in and out of alleyways to try and find that one particular manhole she always climbed down. The city had obviously been one that had taken a hit during En Sabah Nur's brief reign of terror; too many of the buildings had been changed for it to have been simple renovations. Not to mention the posters of Lensherr littered across telephone poles, naming him a hero. He must've helped rebuild.

"Hündin! Raus aus der Straße!"

A car honked twice behind her, and Betsy put up her middle finger, other hand sweeping over the lettering of a manhole in the middle of the street. It was wet, and dirty, but unmistakably the one she was looking for, so she stood up and walked into the nearest café to wait for the traffic to die down.

It was a _very_ familiar café, though the interior had been changed slightly, and Betsy smiled as she approached the front counter, waving at the old woman standing there. "Hello, Frau Müller," she greeted, and the woman's face lit up into an almost _relieved_ grin.

"Betsy, sweet girl!" she exclaimed, "You're alive, you're safe!"

She could only give Frau Müller a gentle nod in response, leaning on the counter and letting the warmth of the room seep into her wet clothes. "I am. So are you, I'm so happy you're alright. You _and_ your shop," she commented, looking around briefly. It was true. Stepping out onto the streets of Berlin had been such a strange experience, considering all the change that had happened since she left. And she'd been glad to see that her favorite café was still standing.

"It was a miracle, my child," Frau Müller smiled, reaching a hand up to give Betsy a pat on the cheek. Her hand was just as warm as the room. "I'm sure you're here for your coffee?"

"Oh yeah, you know it, Frau Müller," Betsy said, looking up at the menu. She didn't exactly want anything sweet. Maybe just a coffee and a double shot would do. "Coffee with a double shot? A little skim too, please."

"Of course, sweet thing," she responded, turning around to begin making Betsy's drink. Over her shoulder, she added, "And what's Caliban having?"

Betsy felt herself stiffen, hands clenching into fists in the pocket of her sweatshirt. _Of course she thinks I'm on a coffee run for Caliban, she has no idea where I've been for the past year._ Putting on a smile, Betsy shrugged. "Chai latté, large," she responded easily. It sounded like something Caliban would order. Frau Müller nodded and handed over a large paper cup of coffee with Betsy's name scrawled over the side. "Thank you."

"We were all worried when we didn't see you here for all those months," the old woman said as she began to fix the second drink, "You disappeared so suddenly, thought you and your friends may have been crushed when one of the streets caved in."

A smile spread across Betsy's face. _They were worried about me?_ She wondered to herself, _Thought I might've been killed? And they were worried?_ "I was worried about you too," she responded easily. It was true. She was worried about the people in Berlin. Mainly the ones working in this coffee shop, considering that it was really the only entirely mutant run business in all of Germany, but other people had crossed her mind once in a while.

"You're such a kind young woman. And here's your boss' drink," Frau Müller was handing over another, larger cup of coffee with a soft smile on her face, "Tell them to enjoy it. I added an extra shot."

Betsy had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. _Caliban definitely doesn't need a shot of espresso in their coffee,_ she thought to herself. But it was a kind gesture from the old woman, and she just offered a smile. "Thanks, Frau Müller. How much do I owe you?"

"On the house, sweetie," she responded, and Betsy gave her a shocked look. "I'm just glad to see you alive."

"God, thank you so much," Betsy grinned, leaning across the counter to give her a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't every day she got free coffee. "I missed you. And seriously, I'll be back in here every day now."

"You and Caliban keep my business alive single handedly."

After a few more brief words, Betsy made her way out of the shop, pausing to slam her coffee and toss the now empty cup in the nearest garbage can. The few cars that had previously been on the road were gone now, the people moved inside probably because of the rain. _Perfect._

She made her way into the middle of the street and pulled the manhole open with practiced ease. And then, after glancing around to make sure there were no unnecessary spectators, she began to climb down. It was more difficult than she remembered it being, climbing down a ladder in the dark with a cup of coffee in one hand, so the descent was slower than usual.

Once she'd finally made it to the landing that started into stairs, she had managed to work up a slight sheen of sweat. _Gross,_ she thought to herself, smoothing the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail back across her head.

There were voices coming from down the stairs, ones that she recognized and ones that she didn't. As she started down the steps, careful to avoid hitting her head on the flickering lightbulbs, she started to make out what was being said, and, to no surprise, one of the voices was Caliban arguing with a customer.

Betsy paused in the unlit part of the room for a brief moment, watching the interaction with an amused smile on her face, until the man stormed out past her and up the stairs, huffing and grumbling all the way. It left the room a bit quieter, and she considered that the perfect opportunity to reveal herself. "Hey," she called, crossing the room with one hand still shoved in her pocket, "I need some help finding a mutant."

"That will cost you, dear, Caliban doesn't offer their services for free," they spoke without looking up at her, disturbingly large eyes scanning over a page of what was most likely transactions of some kind.

Betsy set the coffee down on the desk and stared down at them with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, creep, but I think it'll be pretty easy to find her," she said, expecting them to look up. But lo and behold, they continued reading over whatever it was they had on the desk. "She makes a telekinetic katana. It's pretty wicked looking. And she's got a great ass."

"Caliban thinks you are talking about Psylocke. Unfortunately, she is-" they cut themself off, eyes finally flitting up to meet her gaze. Betsy couldn't help giving them an amused smile as they stared at her, slack jawed. "Psylocke."

"Psylocke," she agreed, and then gestured to the coffee cup, "I brought you coffee. Well- a chai latte. But Frau Müller put in a shot, so I guess it _is_ coffee."

They still weren't saying anything. Betsy shifted on her feet a bit. She honestly had no idea what they were thinking; it could be anything, really. They could easily be relieved, happy to have her back, but considering that she abandoned them to join an ancient god in taking over the world... she could see them being pretty angry too. "Caliban wants to know why you came back."

There wasn't really... any sort of emotion in the question. It was just... a question. Betsy was sort of shocked. "I- this is my home. Why _wouldn't_ I come back?" she asked, and Caliban stood up straighter, flattening out the papers with their hands.

"Caliban thinks they remember you leaving on a rather bitter note," they said in that same flat tone, "You never wanted to be here in the first place, did you? But Caliban paid you, so you stayed. Caliban knows you are not their friend."

Betsy was really taken aback now. Was that... _bitterness_ in their voice? She'd heard Caliban sound angry before, happy, sarcastic, afraid, but never _bitter._ "I mean- yes? I worked for you. But that doesn't mean-"

"Caliban knows they are unnerving to be around, we aren't exactly... _normal_. Mystique is right when she calls us creepy," they said. It wasn't exactly a question, or an answer to Betsy's confusion. "You did not have to come back, Psylocke. Why did you come back?"

"Because this is still my _home_ , Cal," she could've sworn they stiffened at the old nickname, "I _missed_ you. I missed _everybody_ here. Am I not allowed to want to see my family again?"

They didn't respond at first, tapping their fingers along the words on the papers in front of them. "Caliban cannot tell if you are telling the truth."

"Of _course_ I'm telling the truth!" Betsy was just getting frustrated now. _Why don't they believe me?_ "Sure, you're a little weird and kind of... I don't know, predatory sometimes, but- but you care about me! You care about my wellbeing, okay?"

"Does _Apocalypse_ not care about Psylocke's wellbeing?" they asked, the same bitter expression on their face.

Betsy's hands clenched into fists, and she slammed them down on the counter, purple energy spiking out around them. "Would you _stop that!?_ " she screeched, and the various mutants sitting around the room all turned to look at her with fear in their eyes. "I lost it a little bit, alright!? En Sabah Nur showed me the extent of my powers and I got _excited!_ So I left! And now I _regret_ leaving! I came back because I wanted to! What else do you want me to _say!?_ "

"Caliban would appreciate an apology."

She froze. That wasn't at _all_ what she had expected. Her mouth fell open slightly, and she stammered over several words at first, blinking at them slowly. "I-" she tried, but it caught in her throat, "I'm- I'm sorry." She waited, but it didn't get a response. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I- I abandoned you. I didn't think you would- I didn't think you'd care so much. I didn't mean to... hurt you or anything."

That got her a slight smile. "Caliban missed you, Psylocke," they said gently, and Betsy couldn't help but notice how their voice shook when they said that.

"I missed you too, you creep," she responded, and they looked up to meet her eyes, grin widening.

"You got us coffee?"

"Yeah I did," she said, pushing the cup over to them. "It's from Frau Müller's shop on our street. Who'd you get to do your coffee runs while I was gone?"

Caliban let out a noise similar to a scoff. "While you were gone the city was destroyed. Caliban had to make their own coffee in the back room. Spyke had a pot for some reason."

"That sounds... disgusting," she said, watching them take a sip of the coffee she'd brought down, "If that's cold I can warm it up for you."

"Oh no, Caliban remembers the last time you tried to do that. We do _not_ want kinetic energy exploding our coffee all over the room again," they snapped, though there was good natured humor behind the words. "Caliban was worried about you when you left. All of us were worried about you. We saw on the television what happened in Cairo. We assumed you must have been killed."

"I almost was, a couple of times," she said, and Caliban's eyes went wide, "But obviously I didn't die. I'm fine. And so are you, and that's what's important."

"Yes, Caliban knows we are all lucky to be alive," they agreed, "Psylocke will have to tell us about her time spent with Apocalypse once we close up for the day. It is sure to be a very interesting story." She nodded, an amused smile on her face, and Caliban took another sip of their coffee. And then, after a moment, they waved at her as if indicating she should leave. "Go see the children, Psylocke, Caliban has customers to attend to."

Betsy smiled and clapped them on the shoulder, moving around behind the counter. "I'll catch up with you later. Evening, Mortimer," she said, giving a wave to the toad-like man sitting in the waiting area. He waved back, and she made her way through the door into the rest of the sewer line where the Morlocks lived.

It smelled just as disgusting as always, and she wrinkled up her nose, biting the inside of her mouth. The floor was wet, as always, and the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling swung and flickered as cars moved on the street above. As she made her way toward the tiny, makeshift kitchen, the chattering of the young mutants living there began to reach her ears. "Hey kids, guess who's back?" she called, stepping into the room.

"Psylocke!" She was immediately being dogpiled by the children, laughing and screaming and clearly happy to have her back. It brought an even bigger smile to her face. And even though the sewer water was soaking into her clothes, and her arm was being scratched by Spyke's back, she couldn't help but laugh.

_Damn, it's good to be home._


End file.
